


Fem!Bilbo prompts and drabbles

by thejollysailor



Series: Burglaress - fem!Bilbo prompts and stories [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Battle Of Five Armies, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, F/M, Ficlet, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Loosely inspired by Marie Antoinette, Miscarriage, One Shot, fem!Bilbo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2017-12-30 19:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejollysailor/pseuds/thejollysailor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chapter 1:</p><p>fem!Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield - Marie Antoinetteish AU.</p><p>Chapter 2: fem!Bilbo/Fíli - Billa miscarries in Laketown</p><p>Chapter 3: Kíli goes to the Shire to make amends with Billa. He finds something he did not expect.</p><p>Chapter 4: fem!Bilbo/Thorin Oakenshield, fem!Bilbo/Fíli - The King under the Mountain discovers his wife's indiscretions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thorin/fem!Bilbo - Arranged Marriage AU

**Author's Note:**

> Continuation of this AU can now be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1023211/chapters/2036041)
> 
> This idea just wouldn't leave me alone.
> 
> Basically I've been wanting to do a different take on the usual arranged marriage AU where Bilbo and Thorin marries because of a political alliance between the Shire and Erebor and then fall in love and live happily ever after. And then i watched the Marie Antoinette movie by Sofia Coppola (which is quite horrible but oh, so pretty) and I just had to. It probably turned out quite clumsy and confusing - my apologies. 
> 
> Please note that I completely fucked around with canon and the ages of the characters: Smaug obviously never happened and Thorin and Bilbo are a bit younger in this.

The mountain looms over her as someone helps her off the horse: she is sore and the dress she was presented with in Dale is nearly soaked with sweat. She is not used to horse riding, nor is she used to wearing heavy silks and furs. She feels like she is being crushed under its weight. Or perhaps it is the many stares that are weighing her down. She tries to smile and nod, tries to look into every pair of eyes in the crowd. _Do so much good to the people of Erebor, that they can say I have send them a treasure_. She repeats her grandfather’s words in her head, repeatedly until she feels dizzy. She walks forward in the crowd of dwarves that have come to greet her and hopes that no one notices that her knees are buckling. _Smilenodsmiledonttripnodsmile_.

Ahead of her, before the gate, stands a small group of dwarves separated from the others. The dwarf behind her that had greeted her in Dale and whose name is Balin, whispers to her that it is the royal family. He need not bother, Billa had already deduced as much but she smiles and whispers thank you anyway. They are all wearing blue, blue and gold like Billa herself and there are gems adorning their hair and beards, more so than in those of the other dwarves. When she reaches them, the eldest of them steps towards her: he is wearing a sort of crown and his long beard is adorned with a metal plating of sorts. Balin lean towards her to inform her that it is the king. She curtsies deeply before him, as gracefully as she can but is not easy in the long dress.

“My dear grandfather king” she says as sweetly as she can. It is strange to address a stranger as such, Billa thinks. This man is nothing like her own grandfather, the one who would place her on his lap and tell her stories, who smelled of pipe weed and tilled soil, whom Billa loves more than anyone in the world. But this stranfer is her grandfather: she is married to his grandson, had been so for months without actually meeting him. They had given her a miniature portrait upon the engagement and she had spent countless hours staring at it, caressing the bejewelled medallion in which it was placed. She knew every little detail of the painting by heart, saw it when she closed her eyes; the crooked nose, the black, wiry hair and the piercing blue eyes. Billa had not found him handsome at all when she had received the medallion, in fact she felt rather intimidated by the disapproving look in his eyes. Nevertheless, she had grown fond of the image, since it was all she had of him. Her husband. She can see him now, standing behind the old king, looking like the painting that Billa now wore in a chain around her neck and yet nothing like it at all. The old king sees her glancing behind him and smiles good-heartedly. He takes her hand, and calls her my lady, something Billa is still not used to, and then turns around and lead her towards him.

“May I present my grandson, Thorin, son of Thrain.” He says in a solemn voice. Thorin takes a step forward as his grandfather introduces him, and is only a pace away, towering over her. He is so very tall and broad. And old, Billas treacherous mind whispers. The king lets go of Billas hand, and she curtsies, not as deeply as when she greeted the king but still so low, that she feels the strain in her knees. She does not say anything, does not know if anyone expects her to, does not dare open her mouth, afraid she might cause offence is she did. Billa is thankful when Thorin finally bows and shedares to look into his eyes; she is not sure what she expected to find there but she feels slightly disappointed at the lack of emotion on his face.

_Do not forget, my sweet, that dwarves are secretive folk, who guard only their treasures more closely than their feelings._

“Welcome my lady.” Thorin says with a deep voice that nearly has her jumping out of her skin. Billa is not sure what to do next, but she looks at the king who nods at her approvingly and takes her hand in his and leads her forward, towards the gate and into the mountain, Thorin and the others trailing behind them.


	2. There was a child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billa miscarries after the barrel ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of this story can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1037711/chapters/2069972)

Billa has just opened the last barrel and helped poor Ori out of it, when she first feels the pain. The pain is a cramping one, coming from her abdomen and Billa’s knees nearly go out with the intensity of it. She manages to grab a hold of the now empty barrel, and the pain stills for a moment only to be replaced by a much fiercer one, which sends Billa to her knees. It reminds her of the pains she would have when she had her bleedings in her tween-years, but much fiercer. She wonders if that is what is happening; she has not had her bleedings for a two months but she had not given it much thought. She had been sleep deprived, on the brink of starvation and constantly fearful of discovery from the Elvenking’s guards.  
None of the dwarves seems to notice that she is sitting in the water, clutching at her cramping stomach, until Bofur calls out for her.

“Billa? Where are you? Where is Billa? Where is the hobbit?” he calls, his voice rising as his search becomes more frantic.

Billa realises that she must be hidden from view by the large barrel. She desperately tries to get up, but her knees refuse to cooperate. Instead she opts for crying out for her companions.

She only has to cry out Bofur’s name once, before she hears the sound of feet dragging themselves through water. Bofur appears in front of her, hat askew, clothes drenched, and eyes fixed first on her face, then in the water around her. His face looks horrified, and Billa looks down at the water in between her thighs. The water that is red with blood, _her_ blood.

She takes one last look up at Bofur before passing out.

 

 

Kíli nervously watches Fíli as his brother paces the hallway. He has tried talking to him, but Fíli seemed deaf to his suggestions of food and rest. He had not been sitting down for more than a minute at a time, and he occasionally stopped his pacing to hide his face in his hands and muttering some blurred sentences in Khuzdul. Kíli wanted to reach out for him, to embrace his brother and comfort him but he does not know if Fíli would appreciate it.

The door opens, and Oin steps out, wiping his hands on an already blood-stained cloth. Fíli shoots up from the seat he had taken only a minute ago.  
“Is she alright? Can I see her? Is Billa all right? Answer me, please?”

Oin places a hand on Fíli’s shoulder and quiets him.

“She’ll be fine, lad. The bleeding has stopped, and she’ll need a few weeks of rest before she can continue travelling.”

Fíli looks relieved for a moment, before he frowns again.

“The bleeding? Where is she hurt Oin? Tell me!” he says, his voice becoming more and more desperate. Oin opens his mouth to say something, but cut himself off. An uneasy feeling spreads in Kíli’s stomach.

“Oin. Tell me.” Fíli says and his voice is so low and quiet and so like Thorin’s that Kíli almost expects to see his uncle standing in the doorway. Oin takes a deep breath and looks Fíli right in the eyes. His hold on Fíli’s shoulder tighten for a moment.

“Lad… there was a child.”

 

 

The first she feels when she wakes up is a dull pain in her abdomen and a rawness in between her legs. Then she feels a cool hand on her forehead and someone is whispering her name. She tries to open her eyes but her lashes feel glued together. She tries to shift on the soft mattress but lets out a small whimper when a sharp pain shoots up her spine. The voice continues to whisper her name and sweet nothings, while stroking her hair.

“M’eyes. Can’t open…” she whispers hoarsely, and the stroking hand leaves her hair only to return with a damp cloth that he runs over her closed eyes. She gently attempts to open them again, and this time they crack open to reveal Fíli bending over her. As her eyes adjust to the gentle lighting in the room she notices that his eyes are red-rimmed and his hair in disarray. She smiles weakly up at him, thankful for his concern. She sees tears well up in Fíli’s eyes, but he quickly blink them away and take her hand.

“How are you feeling, my sweet?”

Billa shrugs, or tries to shrug but her entire body feels so thoroughly sore that she can barely lift her arm.

“I’m fine. It hurts though. Especially… well..” she glances awkwardly down at her thighs, and she sees Fíli wince beside her. She frowns.

“Fíli… what is the matter? What happened?” she asks, frown deepening when tears starts to run down Fíli’s cheeks. He takes a deep breath and steels himself, takes a gentle hold of both of her hands and looks into her eyes. The heartbreak Billa sees there nearly punches the air out of her. Then Fíli begins to explain.

 

_“There was a child.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short and not very good at all.


	3. What secrets hide beneath the hill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli goes to the Shire to make amends with Billa. He finds something he did not expect.

_I need to see her. She is the one. The blood in my veins sing out for her. For 35 years, I have endured her absence. For 35 years I have obeyed you, uncle. Please let me do this. **I beg you.**_

It was late when Kíli finally makes his way up the path that leads to Bag End. His knees feel weak, like thin straws and his hand is shaking when he raises it to knock on the door. He steels himself, takes a deep breath and then resolutely knocks on the door. The hollow sound of knuckles against wood echo through the silent night. He hears the sound of shuffling feet on the other site of the door. “In a minute” a voice cries and though the door muffles it, it is certainly not the voice of a woman, not the voice of Billa. Kíli feels his heart sink. Then the door opens.

Kíli had not known what to expect upon his arrival at Bag End, knew that he did not have the right to expect anything from Billa. He had behaved in a shameful manner towards her; he had not protected her from his uncle’s wrath, had not fought his uncle when he upheld her banishment, had not gone after her and had not attempted to contact her. He had no right to come here, he knew that, but with his uncle slowly growing weaker, he had felt a longing to see her, to bring her back so that his uncle and her might make peace, so that he could explain himself to her, _to bring her home_. Kíli had imagined many scenarios, acted out their reunion in his head so many times, but none of them had prepared him for this.

The boy in front of him was at least three inches shorter than he was, his face dominated by a slender nose and dark eyes, and curly dark hair pushed back from his face and tied together in a loose knot at the nape of his neck. He was staring up at Kíli with confusion burning in his dark eyes; dark eyes that were like an echo of his own.

“Can I help you?” the boy asked, not completely able to hide the tremor in his voice.

Kíli just continued to stare down at the boy; he was so fixed on studying the boy that he did not notice the woman standing a few steps behind the boy until she spoke out.

“Hello Kíli.”

Kíli lifted his eyes from the boy in front of him, and his breath caught in his throat when his eyes caught Billa’s. He could see the surprise there, and the confusion and the hurt and the betrayal and the thousand questions that had never been answered. But he could also see the smile on her lips, a tiny one like the ones she would send him across the campfire all those years ago. And Kíli felt his heart soar because he knew, knew that there was a chance, a chance for reconciliation, a chance for him to make it up for her, to apologise for hi mistakes.

“Well Fredin,” Billa said, her voice trembling “aren’t you going to say hello to your father?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really happy with how the ending turned out, and I'm sorry if it ends quite abruptly: this story just wouldn't corporate with me.


	4. Makes my heart die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fem!Bilbo/Thorin Oakenshield, fem!Bilbo/Fíli.
> 
> The King under the Mountain discovers his wife's indiscretions.

Thorin stares blankly at the document that his counsellor, some jumped up merchant from the Iron Hills whose name he cannot remember, has just laid before him. He cannot believe it, will not believe it. Not his Billa, never her, anyone else he might suspect of such abominable behaviour but never her. What his counsellors are suggesting is obscene, monstrous: he would have them all executed were it not for the evidence that lays before him. If it were all so impossible then why is some treacherous part of his mind telling him that it is the truth? That it makes sense in some horrible twisted way and that the evidence before him speaks the truth? That the product of the councils secret investigations (how dare they go behind his back, how dare they sully his pride by even suspecting his queen of such misconduct?) would explain many of Billa’s recent excuses for not spending the night and evening in his company?

As the questions swarms his already troubled head, he feels an overwhelming anger overtake him. His mind screams at him to grab Orcrist and slay whoever dared take to bed with his consort. ‘And Billa too?’ he asks himself, but his inner fury has no answer to his question. There had to be an explanation, something that might excuse Billa for her betrayal (he knows, deep inside that there is not).

He rests his forehead in his hand and draws a heavy sigh. He is king. He knows that no mercy will be expected of him, at least not for whomever had had the nerve to bed his queen. He knows that most will demand no mercy for Billa either.

“Who?” he asks, his voice raspy and dangerously low. He prays that they will understand so that he will not have to elaborate on his question. Yet none of his council members speaks. He looks up and let his gaze run over them all.

“Who is he?” he asks again, and lock eyes with the merchant Haffran, whose name Thorin suddenly remembers. Haffran’s eyes glide nervously about the room before he steels himself and answers him. 

“Your Majesty’s nephew, the Prince Fíli.”

The red hot anger that had been simmering in Thorin's veins roars to life, leaving his vision almost white. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the Tudors.
> 
> I know this is terribly short and not very well written, but the idea just wouldn't leave me alone. I don't know if I'll continue with this au.
> 
> Enjoy!


End file.
